Tuesday 16 December 2014

THE MAD KING

For all she was a Rauspidour

Yet she dined the swamp

Just to prove to all the land

A defying daughter of the man!



She taught legends to myth

Tarnished superstitions and hoax

Created a Kingdom, the swamp yield

To the rambles of a Rauspidour spring



If she takes the name of a basted

who else defy such a man?

A lovely spring of a loved woman

The only one!...If she wasn't hung on a tree!



How can two kings rule a tiny Kingdom?

He taught about it hard overnight

The next night

The swamp had candles all over the dirty water


IDUMOTA

Every time I pass Idumota

I love the dangling bridges above the gutters

That reveal dirty roof and rafters

Of humans, all in the street of Ojota



As I pass the bridge of Idumota

I appreciate the divide between the island and Ijora

That mixes emotions in restive Ojuelegba

How the rich makes Lagos a dump of triumph



As I walk the streets of Ajegunle

I feel the pains of Ibikunle

The excesses of Papa Kunle

Impregnating the sister of Kehinde



Is this population not tiring for you Shola?

Why encourage your sister Bola?

To populate the over populated Ijora!

You can imagine what crosses my mind, when am in Ojota!


Wednesday 3 December 2014

CALABAR SOUTH

This city is lost

Burried in ancient pillars of wine and lust

Feuding on blood and utter disgust

Their pride is in being lost



This ancient city has Burried many kings

Youths lost in their revolt for drinks

Selling nothing but death to the weak

Choking whomsoever wants a new rethink



This city has lost its value

Bathing in past glories, lost in its avenue

Youths perishing on faltering retinue

It's grandeur is suffering rot! Must this continue?



What epitaph of rotteness is this???

Rotten beings eponymous to a deity

As melee in anxiety

This is no mellifluous meld of praise!...pity!



Is there a legacy left?

Or a dance with meerschaum of advance theft?

If nothing stops this trend of maudlin deft

Where none appreciates nor complain this drift


Calabar with its alluring landscape

with blood feuding on the sands about to escape

into oblivion, for none to arrest the scape

To warn the young and elders to escape



This city has lost its ideals

Fleecing their children and feeding them peril

Fathers dancing in absent degree

Offering nothing but violence...that's the disease



How lofty are the ideals of this land

Sinking the youths in bands

Old men progressing and dancing as planned

While decay catches up the youths of the land